The Sky Above Harrenhal
The sky over Harrenhal was heavy with gray clouds.
The castle had been scorched by Balerion the Black Dread, and the tallest, charred Tower of the Burning King clawed at the heavens. Crows wheeled and fell among the half-ruined walls, cawing loudly.
But now, the sky belonged to a living dragon.
With every beat of her wings, Vhagar stirred a hurricane of air. A dragon nearly two centuries old rarely flew with such power, yet today she seemed to revel in it.
Aemond lay across Vhagar's neck, not seated.
No straps secured the saddle. He didn't even hold the simplest reins. His legs were splayed, and he gripped the dragon's rough scales with confidence. His body moved naturally with Vhagar's flight, like a sailor atop a rolling deck.
Those violet eyes were narrowed—not against the wind, but in sheer delight: in speed, in altitude, in the precarious thrill of life hanging by a thread. It was all a matter of body and will to maintain that supreme sense of control.
To his left, Helaena rode Dreamfire, her dragon's silver-blue scales gleaming. Half the size of Vhagar, she had a lighter, more elegant aerial posture. Helaena had fastened all safety ropes and gripped the reins firmly.
As Dreamfire pierced a thin cloud, Helaena's eyes widened.
"Aemond!" Her voice carried on the wind, clear despite its panic. "Are you insane?!"
Aemond turned his head, smiling at her, arms outstretched in a reckless gesture of embrace to the sky.
Vhagar seemed to sense her rider's emotion and roared thunderously. The sound shook the forest around the God's Eye Lake, frightening the birds.
Then Aemond did something even more daring.
He commanded Vhagar toward Dreamfire. Initially, the two dragons had kept a safe distance, but Vhagar arched her massive body through the air, gradually closing the gap.
Helaena's heart leapt to her throat.
For two dragons to fly so close was perilous—their wings could collide, their air currents interfere. A careless move could toss Dreamfire.
"Aemond! Be careful!" she cried.
Vhagar rose alongside Dreamfire. The silver-blue dragon hissed, uneasy, instinctively keeping away from the ancient, formidable mother, but Helaena steadied her, calming the fear.
Five meters apart. From that distance, Helaena could see the battle scars on every scale of Vhagar. She could feel the heat radiating from her.
Aemond still held no reins—just hands and legs pressed against the dragon's scales to maintain balance.
Then he crouched—not to lose balance, but to spring. Helaena understood.
He leapt. Not carefully, not hesitantly. He launched with full force, tracing a bold arc through the dizzying heights.
Helaena's scream caught in her throat. Time seemed to slow. She watched Aemond stretch through the air, the wind tearing at his cloak, before he landed on the back of Dreamfire.
He had passed her.
Dreamfire roared in alarm, silver-blue scales gleaming. Helaena instinctively gripped the reins. Aemond held her steady.
"It's alright! Dreamfire! It's alright!" she shouted in High Valyrian.
The dragon struggled briefly, then settled. Vhagar gradually drew away, flying alongside Dreamfire.
Helaena exhaled, heart pounding. She turned to see Aemond sitting behind her, arms naturally wrapped around her waist, still smiling.
"You're insane…" Helaena whispered, voice trembling.
"Just my usual training," he said lightly, tightening his hold, bodies pressed together atop the dragon.
"Training?!" she cried, almost in tears. "No safety measures! If Dreamfire panics, if Vhagar misjudges—"
"No 'ifs'," Aemond cut her off, resting his chin on her shoulder, lips brushing her ear.
"I just know I can handle it."
Helaena was awestruck. Anger and fear mixed with a ridiculous admiration. Perhaps only Aemond dared such feats. Only he could see life as a game of balance, the sky as a training ground, near-suicidal maneuvers as mere exercises.
At that moment, Lothron, a small black dragon, approached nearby, giving a roar. He flew beside them, then drew closer.
Aemond gestured. The young dragon immediately understood, speeding toward Dreamfire, extending his foreclaws—not in attack, but in readiness.
"I'm leaving you to me," Aemond whispered to Helaena, then moved again. This time, not a jump, but a fluid interception. He grabbed the edge of Dreamfire's saddle with one hand, body dangling in the air, and reached with the other toward Lothron's extended claws.
The black dragon extended them, and Aemond seized them firmly. A man, hanging by a dragon's claws hundreds of meters above the God's Eye, with Dreamfire beneath and no other support.
Lothron began a slow descent, not a dive, but a smooth circular drop. Gradually, height decreased. Helaena also guided Dreamfire downward. She forced herself to focus, but her eyes could not leave the dragon's claws.
Finally, Lothron landed on the open terrain of God's Eye forest. Aemond touched down lightly, unshaken despite the daring maneuvers. Dreamfire landed shortly after.
Helaena slid off her dragon and rushed to Aemond, fists hitting his chest—not heavy, but full of emotion.
"You're insane! Simply insane!" Her eyes were red.
"How dare you? If Lothron hadn't caught you, if Dreamfire dropped you—"
"But I did it," Aemond said, catching her wrist and stopping her strike.
"And this isn't the first time. At God's Eye, Vhagar and I have trained many times with Lothron."
Helaena's eyes widened.
"Many times?"
"Starting with short distances, low altitude," Aemond admitted.
"Gradually, the difficulty increased."
"Vhagar is too old for such maneuvers, but Lothron is clever and learns quickly."